


Favorite Pet

by theinsandoutsofcastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 18:17:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5675833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinsandoutsofcastiel/pseuds/theinsandoutsofcastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I just saw the ask where someone wanted an Alastair smut and you didn’t have a plot and I’ve got one for ya. You’re a demon and one of his top apprentices torturing souls in hell and he gets a soft spot for you cause you torture like no one’s business so he likes to watch you work and after a particularly brutal session he tells you how much he likes watching you torture and things get kinky and rough and sexy af. AND Alastair x reader. Alastair is a sadist and you’re his pet, who happens to be a masochist. (PWP, bdsm, bloodplay, slapping, scratching, biting, choking. All consensual and just pure filthy smut)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Favorite Pet

Warnings: Description of reader torturing others, mention of reader being tortured in the past, mention of scars on reader, language, smut, rough sex, dirty talk, bondage, blood play, knife play, spanking, hair pulling, biting, choking, scratching, orgasm denial, dom!Alastair, sub!Reader, pretty much just PWP

Fic:

“I really don’t want to hurt you,” you purr as you circle the rack at the center of the room. The man strung up there is beaten and bloody, but he refuses to give in. “Just one little word and this can all be over,” you tell him.

“I won’t,” he says like a petulant child.

“Oh, you can and you will,” you respond. You can feel eyes watching you, the tell-tale sign that your tutor has dropped in to observe you. You had to up your game.

“I’ll never do anything you want, you bitch!” he shouts.

“Wow, I’m offended,” you say calmly, “I’ve never been anything but kind to you. What have I done to earn such hatred?” You take the dull, rusty knife in your hand and pull the blade across the man’s abdomen. The man screams in agony. “I’m so sorry,” you say, a faked pained expression plastered on your face, “I hated doing that to you, but like I said, this could all be over. All you have to do is say yes. I can get you down from the rack, you’ll become a demon like me, and I’m sure my tutor would take you under his wing. He’s a master at what he does, a real ‘Picasso with a razor blade.’”

“I’ll never give that bastard the satisfaction,” he shouts.

“Well, if I can’t change your mind today, there’s always tomorrow,” you say shrugging your shoulders, “I’m in no rush.” You pull the blade across his neck and watch the man struggle as the life fades from him. “See ya tomorrow hot shot,” you say as he dies for what had to be the thousandth time.

A slow clapping sounds from the corner of the room and you turn to find Alastair walking towards you, a dark look in his eyes. “Hello Alastair,” you say casually as you wipe the blood from your knife and move to place it on the counter beside your other toys, “What brings you here today?” Like you didn’t already know. You were his best student and he loved to watch you work.

When you turn back around, Alastair is right behind you. He cages you between the table and himself, your torture devices scattering across the table as his hands hit the surface. “I think you know why I’m here pet,” he says, his voice rough.

“I’m not so sure it’s that obvious,” you tease, letting your fingers dance down his chest and abdomen.

“Then I’ll just have to make you painfully aware,” he says. Alastair snaps his fingers and the next thing you know, you’re hanging from your wrists near the torture rack. The man’s dead body had been removed. You wrap your hands around the chains that hold you up, trying to gain better support than having only your tiptoes touch the ground. “You’re good at what you do. I enjoy watching you torture almost as much as I enjoy torturing,” Alastair praises, “I’ve taught you well, but you could do much better.”

Alastair stalks towards you and brings a hand down against your ass. You yelp at the sharp sting. “I did everything just as you taught me,” you say. Alastair brings his hand down against you again and you moan at the stinging feeling. He circles you a few times, watching you struggle to keep yourself from swinging by your wrists.

“So, the student thinks they’ve become the master? I remember when it was you on that rack,” Alastair says, nostalgia in his voice. His hand comes down against your ass, hard. You lose your balance and swing from the chains holding you up. Alastair moves off to the side before he runs his fingers along the table and picks up a terrifying looking knife. “How many years did you last? Forty before I broke you?”

“Sounds about right,” you comment, eyeing the knife as he tests the sharpness of it.

“You were always my favorite,” he says, moving closer, “You were so brave, so strong, so defiant. It only made me want to break you more. I think it’s what made you such a good little student.” He takes your shirt in one hand and begins slicing the buttons off one by one.

Your breath hitches as he drags the cool, smooth side of the blade down your chest. In one swift movement, he cuts the front of your bra open and your breasts spill free. Alastair examines the sight before him as he draws the blade gently across your skin, careful not to cut you, yet. He snaps his fingers again, leaving you completely naked. A wicked smile crosses his lips.

“I remember giving you each and every one of these scars pet,” he says, “You really are my masterpiece.” This was the body Alastair had tortured you in. It was just a meat suit now, but you kept it as a trophy of your time spent on the rack. Alastair draws the tip of the blade up your body from your thigh to your neck. You hold your breath and wait for what you know is coming.

He watches the way you draw your lips between your teeth with anticipation, his eyes flicking white. In a slow, deliberate motion, he draws the sharp blade across the soft skin just above your collarbone, a trail of red left behind the metal. You cry out at the pleasurable pain and Alastair relishes the sound. He draws the blade across your skin a few more times in various places, drawing gasps and shouts from your lips.

Warm blood trickles down your body and Alastair focuses on a particular drop of it. This drop starts from the first cut he’d left on you and drips down your chest and over the curve of your breast. His lips move to your skin and his tongue laps up the trail of blood, starting from your nipple and moving over the curve of your breast up to your collarbone.

You moan as he wraps his hand in your hair and pulls your head to the side. “Such a pretty little work of art,” Alastair growls, “But you’re not quite finished yet are you?” His teeth sink into the skin of your neck and you moan at the feeling. He bites and sucks your skin, letting bruises bloom across your neck, chest, and breasts. Your grasp on the chains tightens, wishing you could touch him and Alastair can sense your frustration.

He drops the knife, letting it clatter on the floor. His hands move down to your thighs and he lifts your legs up around his waist, pulling you hard against him. His hard cock strains against his pants and presses against your core, making you groan as your head tips back. Alastair grinds himself against you as he bites and sucks at the skin of your neck and shoulders, drawing moans from your lips. The fabric of his pants gives your clit delicious friction. “Please, more,” you whisper as pressure builds in your stomach.

“Breaking so easily?” Alastair chides, “I would’ve thought you could hold on for longer than that.” Alastair drops your legs and moves away from you, leaving you desperate and needy. You rub your thighs together and Alastair brings his hand down against your ass again. “Don’t do that,” Alastair commands, “Spread your legs. The only one who’s going to provide you with any pleasure is me, if I decide to provide it that is.” You groan and spread your legs.

Alastair smirks as he looks at you, blood dripping down your body and bruises marking your skin. He snaps his fingers and his clothing disappears. You groan at the sight of him standing before you, his heavy cock standing erect. He takes his cock in his hand and pumps along his length. “I bet you’d feel so good around my cock,” he growls, “You’d like that wouldn’t you Y/N? Like to feel my hard cock inside you?”

“Yes, please,” you beg, not even caring if you sound desperate. Alastair smirks as he continues pumping himself into his hand. He knew what this was doing to you; he knew that making you watch him pleasure himself while depriving you of any sort of friction was the worst possible form of torture. “Please, I need to feel you,” you beg.

“You need to feel me pet?” Alastair asks. He walks behind you and places a hand on each of your hips, pulling your body flush against his. His hard cock prods your ass and you groan at the contact. “Is this how you want to feel me?” he asks. His fingers move up to your nipples and he tweaks the hardened buds, making you writhe and cry out in pleasure. “Or perhaps you’d like to feel this,” he says. His teeth dig into the skin of your shoulder as he drags his fingers down your body. Alastair traces the slowly healing cuts on your body with his fingertips before he lets one hand slide down between your legs. His fingers play with your clit before he pinches the swollen bud between them.

“Oh fuck!” you cry out at the harsh touch. You can feel the smile on his lips as his hand cups your aching sex. His fingers move almost gently against you before he pinches the bud again, making you cry out.

“You like that don’t you?” he questions, earning a moan from you, “I’m willing to bet you’d like this even more.” Alastair thrusts two fingers deep inside you and begins pumping them in and out, fast and hard.

“Yes!” you cry out. Alastair brings his free hand up to your neck and squeezes just hard enough to bring you even more pleasure. You moan and writhe as his fingers forcibly penetrate you again and again, your hands grasping at the chains holding you up. Your walls grow tight around his fingers and he pulls them from you quickly, bringing you back from the edge. “Please, don’t stop,” you groan in dissatisfaction as he leaves you empty and wanton.

Alastair moves away from you and brings his hand down against your ass one more time, making you groan loudly. “I thought you wanted to feel me inside you,” Alastair says, moving to stand in front of you, “So you’ll be a good little pet and cum around my cock.” His hands pull your legs up around his waist and he runs his hard cock through your dripping folds. Alastair teases you for what seems like an eternity, his fingers digging into your flesh as he grinds himself against you.

“Need to feel your hard cock inside me,” you groan, “Need you to fuck me.” Your words spark something in Alastair. He uses his telekinetic powers to open the shackles holding your wrists and your arms fall down over his shoulders. The second your arms are free, Alastair pushes you back against the stone wall and uses his powers to hold you there. You cry out as he slams his cock into you, filling you to the hilt.

He gives you barely any time to adjust to his size before he begins thrusting in and out of you like a man depraved. Each of his thrusts pushes you back against the wall, hard. One of his hands grips your thigh tightly while the other moves up to your neck, squeezing tighter than before, but not tight enough to cut off your airway. “So good,” Alastair groans, “You take my cock so well.” He bottoms out inside you over and over again. His teeth graze your nipple as he thrusts even faster. “I want to feel you cum,” Alastair tells you, “Let me feel you squeeze my cock. Make me cum inside you, fill you up with my cum.”

You gasp and groan as your head falls back against the hard wall. Your fingernails drag down his back, leaving harsh red marks and trails of blood as you go. The way he fucks you makes your stomach coil and your walls grow tight. “I’m close,” you gasp, his grip on you tightening.

“Go ahead pet,” Alastair growls, “Cum on my cock.” His hand moves from your thigh to your clit, rubbing hard circles around the swollen bud. The knot in your stomach breaks and you cry out as your walls clamp down harshly around him. “Fuck pet, that’s it,” he growls. Your orgasm sparks his own and his eyes flash white again as his cock pulses, spilling himself deep inside you. He bites down on your shoulder as he cums, blood welling to the surface of your skin. His thrusts come to a stop and he begins to kiss your skin instead of biting.

“I knew there was a reason you were my favorite,” Alastair says, his touch gentle compared to the roughness he had just shown you. He pulls himself from you and lets your legs fall back to the floor. You stumble and he catches you.

“I should be getting back to work,” you say, trying to wiggle free of his grasp.

“Not so fast,” Alastair says, “You’re done working for today.”

“Sorry, come again?” you ask. Never once in your time as a torturer had you earned a day off.

“Oh, pet, I will be cuming again, and again, and again,” Alastair says, his eyes dark and voice rough, “And so will you.” He clicks his fingers, the room dissolving around you.


End file.
